GRAPHIC | Johnan Mitchell
As Embith’s paws stomped on the cobblestone path, his mind was racing. Should he tell the doctor about his feelings toward her or should he keep that to himself? Though it was not necessarily frowned upon for a Dragonborn and a Human to love each other, that could be different for a Plague Doctor. In his clawed hands, he held a satchel of herbs and a basket of fresh roasted fish.
He would bring these every morning to Doctor Throe, as she was busy healing the sick to gather the herbs and cook her food. Embith cared deeply for the kind-hearted doctor, who tied herself to making sure everyone was healthy and happy. Her heart is one of the many reasons Embith fell for Throe.
Others included her soft voice and roundish figure. To him, she was the image of beauty and would make even the goddess of love envy her. Many of the men in the city often talked ill of Throe because of her weight. This would anger Embith. Throe was here making sure their fellow citizens were healthy and she had treated many of them numerous times.
That was the part that Embith never got, how could they say such awful things about the woman that saved their lives?
Embith was now at the front door. He was still contemplating if he should confess his love for her or not. The shop was made of white clay and dark oak wood. The roof of the building was various shades of purple and the sign had the crest of the Plague Doctors-A raven holding a claw full of herbs and with a wing raised as to fly. Embith raised his white-scaled hand and knocked on the small windowed door. He heard a soft, muffled voice come from inside, “ Hold on a second.”
